Brody (Hope City #3) - Kris Michaels Page 0,8

smells. "Yeah, the bust went down. One of the DEA dicks grandstanded, trying to pull all the credit, but Terrell wasn't backing down." That and Amber had snipped the agent's credit snatch in the bud.

"Good bust?"

"Yeah, coke, guns and money, and we have a bird who's singing. The interrogators were putting him on ice for the night, and we'll be back at him in the morning. The DA is willing to play, to a degree. So far, we only have him on weapons charges, but ballistics isn't back yet. There've been several drug related hits still open and the Uzis those four were carrying could very well be the weapons involved."

"You skipping the family dinner tomorrow night?"

"No, I'm taking the seven to three shift. I'll be there." Getting his ass up as six in the morning would suck, but these dinners meant so much to his parents.

"Thank goodness, with Brock on his honeymoon and me at the station, Mom would be upset if you didn't make it." Blay continued to stir the mixture.

God, it smelled divine.

Blay stared at the contents of the skillet and shook his head. "I could never do what you do. It would be too depressing. You stop one source, and three more start pouring drugs into the city."

He took a sip of his bourbon and closed his eyes, enjoying the taste before he responded to his brother. "And you run into burning buildings. That's something I could never do. It takes a special strain of insane to be a spark-head."

"Hey, at least I found my tribe." Blay reached out and grabbed his drink. "Where's the ice?"

Brody groaned and slid off the counter to retrieve a couple ice cubes. He plunked them in his brother's tumbler and resumed his position. "You ever wish you could replay your past and delete certain portions?"

Blay's eyes snapped up. He nodded slowly. "I don't think there is anyone alive who doesn't have that wish at one time or another." He added another ladle of liquid and continued to stir his creation. "What do you want to erase?"

Brody rubbed his face and groaned. "If I tell you this shit, you can't tell Mom or the girls. You've got to swear to it. Blood oath, man."

"You know it. Brothers before mothers. What's up?" He turned, dividing his attention between what he was cooking and the conversation.

"Remember Amber?"

Blay stopped stirring and shot a laser sharp stare in his direction. "Yeah. I was still in school, but I remember her."

"She's a DEA agent now."

"No shit?"

He nodded and added, "Yeah, and she's been assigned permanently to JDET."

The muscle in Blay's jaw flexed before he ground out, "Tell Terrell you want nothing to do with her. She almost killed you, man."

"She didn't cause the accident."

"The fuck she didn't! You were going after her when the drunk bastard t-boned you. Your truck was totaled, and it took the first responders over an hour to cut you from the wreckage." He splashed another ladle of stock into the pan and shook his head, cursing under his breath. "If you can't avoid her, ask for a transfer."

"I worked hard to get into JDET, and I'm not letting anyone chase me off the team. I'll talk to Terrell if it becomes a problem. She can report directly to Anderson, and we'll have a minimum of interaction." He'd work the rotation so they didn't work the same shift. They'd see each other during major operations or only when necessary for the job.

"What do you wish you could erase?"

Huh? "Sorry, what?" He took another sip of his bourbon.

"You asked if I wished I could erase something from my past, would I do it. What do you want to erase?"

He looked into the dark caramel color of his bourbon. "I'd erase the proposal."

Then maybe she'd still be in his life. He fucking missed her, missed what they had. Hell, he still dreamed of her on occasion. She’d been his everything, and when she’d left it had drained the energy from his life. Damn. He'd become a shell of who he’d been. Her reappearance slapped that fact in his face and kept him staring at it.

Blay stirred the mixture, not looking at him, but asked, "Do you think it would have mattered?"

That was a question he asked himself countless times over the years. "I guess we'll never know." He shrugged and nodded to the food. "How long until that's ready?"

"Ten minutes."

"I'm going to grab a quick shower then. Be right back." He slipped off the

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